Five Times Dean Winchester Cried
by captain-americano
Summary: I know what your thinking, "Oh, how original." Yeah, I'm sorry. Anyway, this is a sort of cutesy angsty wee!cest fic, but Sam's the older brother in this story (there's still four years between them). The idea came to me when I woke up at a disgustingly early hour and I had to write it then and there incase I forgot. Okay, enjoy!


**Yay! Some angstyfeels of the wee!cest persuasion. Five times Dean cries, and five times Sam ignores his feelings for his younger brother. Enjoy!**

_Dean is six._

His eyes fly open and he hears a blood curdling scream. _Oh, it's coming from me_. Sam's there first. He's always there first. Whispering that Dean's okay, rubbing circles on his back, patting his hair. Sam always took care of him properly. John came in pointing a gun around the room, checking that it was clear.

"What?" He snapped, when he realized nothing was wrong.

"Monsters," Dean whimpered, tears rolling down his face. John huffed and handed Dean the gun.

"You remember how to use this?" He asked the younger boy.

"Yessir." Dean sniffs. John turns and walks away, missing the disgusted look that Sam gives him.

"You wanna come and sleep with me, De? I'll protect ya." Sam offered with a kind smile. Dean nodded wearily and crawled out of his bed, grabbing Sam's hand. Sam led him back to his room and held him closely in the bed.

"You gonna be okay, De?" Sam asked, wrapping the blankets tightly around the pair and pressing a kiss to his brother's small forehead.

"Yeah, Sammy, thanks." Dean mumbled into the curve of his older brother's neck. And that was how they spent many nights.

But it didn't mean anything.

Not really.

_Dean is eight._

He doesn't know why Sam is crying. He _thinks_ he might be able to make it better, so he decides to give it a go. He was meant to be asleep hours ago, but that doesn't matter because his older brother is sad and that's not okay. He quietly shifts out of bed and pads over to where Sam is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Dean gently pushes Sam back into the couch and Sam tries - and fails - to put on a brave face.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean asks, crawling into his older brother's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck.

"You should be asleep, De." Sam says quietly.

"I'm glad I'm not because then I wouldn't be able to make you happy!" Dean says simply.

"I'm scared, Dean." Sam whispers. Dean looks confused for a moment.

"But... But you're my older brother, _you_ don't get scared!" Dean says wonderingly.

"I do, De. All the time. I'm so afraid." Sam admits sadly. Dean frowns.

"What are you afraid of Sam?"

"I'm afraid of this lifestyle, of losing you, of everything! I'm scared that dad might never come back and that you and I will be separated by Child Services, and I'm afraid of everything that's out there in the dark!" Sam says miserably. Sam is so upset and it's starting to have an affect on Dean.

"Sammy, don't cry." He pleads, his little voice wobbling. He gives Sam a soft, innocent kiss on the cheek. "Please don't be sad, we'll be okay and dad'll be fine. He always is." Dean promised, a few tears slipping from his eyes. It kills him to see his older brother upset. Sam gives a small smile and wipes Dean's tears away with his warm thumb.

"C'mon, Dean, lets get you back to bed." Sam said, picking Dean up and carrying him to his bed.

"And you won't cry no more?" Dean asked in a small voice.

"Nah, you made me feel better." Sam gave a sad chuckle. He tucked Dean in and turned off the lights and moved to his own bed. He promised himself to try and be stronger for Dean's sake, to not let anything happen to his baby brother.

He sort of wished he could spend the nights cuddling with his brother like they used to, but John had put an end to it.

Anyway, he didn't want to that much...

Not really.

_Dean is eleven._

He's pacing around the room. Dad had always left the two brothers alone together while he went on hunts. Whatever time he spent with his boys he was training them so that one day they could join him. Sam's day came all too soon in Dean's opinion. Dad had done all the research and even located the monster, and then he and Sam were loading the car and driving off. The Winchesters didn't really do goodbyes. John's goodbye was a learnt-by-heart speech about not opening the door, salting the windows and calling once then calling back if he needed to speak to the brothers. This time he only gave the speech to Dean. Sam hovered in the motel for a moment after their dad had left.

"Please be careful, Sammy." Dean whispered.

"You bet." Sam said awkwardly. He didn't want to go, didn't want to leave Dean, didn't want to be a hunter.

"Sam, get your ass out here!" They heard John call and Sam left without another word. That was about four hours ago. That's why Dean was pacing and getting twitchy and anxious. His head was running through all the possible scenarios of why it was taking so long and all of them, each and every one, ended with the death of his beloved older brother. Dean felt a surge of tears coming and raced to the bathroom to wash his face, but it didn't stop him from crying.

"_Please_ come home, Sam." He whispered, looking at his worked up self in the mirror. He went back into the main room and resumed pacing, occasionally having to pause and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down, all the while tears were pouring down his face.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a tired and injured Sam walked in. Dean had his arms wrapped tightly around his wincing older brother in a heartbeat.

"Thank _god_ you're back and safe, _thank you_ for coming home, Sammy, I _love_ you, thank you!" Dean blurted out. He looked around to make sure John didn't hear and that he didn't see him crying either. "Sam, where's dad?" Dean asked, his stomach clenching horribly.

"Oh, sorry, kid, he's okay, he's gone to get some food." Sam said, stripping off out of his dirty, ripped clothes. "You okay? Look like you've been crying." Sam paused, looking at his younger brother, in the act of taking his shoes off.

"Oh, yeah, stupid..." Dean mumbled wiping his face.

"C'mere," Sam said, pulling him into a bear hug. "I'm okay, De, everything went fine." Dean held onto his brother tightly. "Now, pull yourself together before dad comes back and kicks your ass." Sam said, pulling a stern face, mocking their father.

"Yessir," The younger boy laughed, giving a mock salute. Sam smiles and musses Dean's hair and heads to the bathroom to wash off the dirt and sweat. When he's finished his quick shower, Dean embraces him again.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Sammy." Dean whispered and stood on his tiptoes to give Sam a quick peck on the lips.

It meant nothing, really.

_Dean is thirteen._

He's two years younger than Sam was when he went on his first hunt. Sam wanted to put this day off for as long as possible, but it was a snap decision that John could not be talked out of. John had made Sam wait in the car, knowing that he'd just step in and do Dean's job for him.

"Dean's done a fine job of killing the vampire," John told Sam when he joined them to burn the remains. Sam noticed a silent tear slip down his brother's face as he was staring into the fire.

John dropped them off at the motel so he could go and drink himself blind at the local dive.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked softly, once they were in the darkening room.

"Yeah." Dean said tonelessly.

"De..." Sam said, giving him his infamous puppydog face.

"I dunno, Sam, it's just... D'you realize how messed up this is? We. Hunt. Monsters. What the hell? I know you don't want to, and it kind of scares me, to be honest." Dean says in a low voice.

"I know, Dean, but one day, maybe we'll be able to get away." Sam said in a hopeful tone.

"Sam, you're smart, you could do anything with your life! I'm not! I have no future, other than this." Dean said sadly, his eyes prickling embarrassingly.

"What makes you say that?" Sam asks, quickly moving across to hug his obviously upset younger brother.

"It's the truth, you know it." Dean mumbled.

"No, it's not. If you really want to get away from this life, one day you will. Until then, we're in it together, I'll never leave you." Sam presses a kiss into Dean's hair, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"You're a good older brother, Sammy." Dean sighs, letting a few tears slip down his face. Sam didn't reply. If he really was a good older brother, Dean wouldn't be here crying next to him. They'd be happy together, living a normal life with a dog and a picket fence.

Dean looks up and sees the doubt in his brother's eyes.

"Hey," Dean catches Sam's lips with his own, a little forcefully. "You really are." He mumbles into Sam's mouth.

Dean slips his tongue around Sam's lips, begging for entrance which is hastily granted.

And Sam doesn't like the way he tastes.

Really, he doesn't.

_Dean is fifteen._

He can hear shouting from downstairs. Shock horror. He leaves the comfort of his room to go and see if he can break up the fight between his brother and father.

"And here's Dean, you wanna tell your little brother what's going on?" John spat at Sam who flinched and refused to look at Dean.

"Sammy? What's happening?" Dean regarded his brother. Sam stayed silent, looking at his feet.

"Sam's leaving us, Dean." John said coldly after a long silence. Dean's heart sank and his breath hitched.

"Wait, no, no, Sammy wouldn't do that, would you Sam?" He asked, a lump rising in his throat. "Sam?" He pleaded desperately. Sam nodded towards the ground, still not looking at Dean, and Dean gasped.

"No, Sam, d-don't, y-you can't le-leave!" Dean choked. Sam moved for the first time since Dean walked in, he bent down and grabbed a duffel that Dean hadn't noticed. Sam walked straight out of the kitchen without word or a backwards glance. Dean tore after him, tears welling in his eyes. He followed his brother out of the house and onto the street.

"Hey, Sam, HEY!" He shouted as Sam threw the bag in the trunk of a cab.

"Sam, you can't leave!" Dean cried. Sam looked up over to him, wearing a hurt expression.

"I have to. I can't do this, I need to get away."

"Where are you going, I'll come!" Dean begged.

"You can't, I'm going to college," Sam whispered, looking at the ground again.

"But Sammy, what happened to you and me? You-you said we'd always be together, that one day, we'd get away - _together!_" Dean shouted, causing Sam to flinch.

"I wanted to wait, I did, but this came up and I couldn't say no!" He tried to defend himself, but his heart wasn't really in it.

"Is it because I'm to dumb for you?" Dean asked, ignoring the hot tears leaking from his eyes.

"No, don't say that!" Sam said, moving forward a little but then stopping himself from reaching out.

"Please don't go." Dean whispered brokenly.

"I... I have to." Sam hesitated and lunged forward to hold his baby brother close. Dean just stood there, not returning the embrace.

"You said we were in it together, you promised you'd never leave me." Dean whispered. Sam pushed away from his brother like he'd been burnt.

"Dean, I-"

"Whatever, Sam. I'm used to dad letting me down, I just never expected it from _you_." Dean sobbed in a low voice. "Good luck at college." He said dully and turned to walk inside before Sam could respond.

And Sam doesn't want to run after him and hug him and kiss him and beg for forgiveness with the promise of being back soon.

He sure as hell doesn't.


End file.
